


The Birthday Special

by SusieBeeca



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Because Lars is a dickhole, Birthdays, Lars is a dickhole, Math can be scary, Other, Ronaldo regrets this friendship, Set before The Pinkening, That horrible moment of realization, Warning for a bit of fatphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 17:43:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20231830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SusieBeeca/pseuds/SusieBeeca
Summary: Who knew that buying a donut could lead to such existential angst?





	The Birthday Special

Lars leaned on his elbow and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Now that Sadie was in the bathroom, he felt free to check his Tinder… and his gut soured when he saw nothing but left swipes. Apparently his PhotoShop skills weren’t as good as he thought they were. His heart fluttered a bit when he saw a match, but it dropped again when he viewed “UnicornHunter69”s profile.

He clicked his phone off and shoved it back in his pocket. “Fuck it,” he muttered. He pushed his drink to the side and folded his arms, resting his head atop them.  
He didn’t look up when the door jingled open, and he didn’t look up when he sensed a shadow fall over him. It wasn’t until a finger jabbed his shoulder that he lifted his head.

“Greetings, Lars! I come with convivial tidings!”

He let out a snort of disappointment. “Oh. It’s just you, Ronaldo.”

“Yes, Lars, it is, in fact, me. But I’m afraid I’m not here on a social visit.” He wiped his palms on his cargo shorts, and then adjusted his collar. “I’m here to inquire about your ‘birthday special’.”

Lars rolled his eyes and took a big swig of his cola. “Nice try, butt-munch, but I know your birthday is June tenth. Even a fatass like you can wait another few months.”

“Big-boned,” Ronaldo corrected. “I am big-boned. But I’m not here on my behalf; Peedee is going to be turning ten tomorrow, and I wanted to know if you could prepare him a rainbow sprinkle with strawberry filling.” Then he actually winked. “It’s his favourite, and it’s not every day one’s age changes the number of digits. So, you know. As a favour. Between friends.”

Lars opened his mouth to correct him on the use of ‘friends’, but something suddenly occurred to him. “Wait, Peedee was born on March tenth?”

“Yes. That makes him a Pisces. And it’s his ‘golden birthday’, since he’s ten on the tenth, and that---”

Lars almost choked on his drink; when he recovered, he turned to Ronaldo with wide eyes. “What the hell, dude? Your brother was born in March?!”

He pushed his glasses back up his nose. “I believe I confirmed that a moment ago.”

“And you were born in June?” He had that damn half-grin half-sneer that Ronaldo had grown to hate. “You were born June tenth, and he was born March tenth?”

Ronaldo scoffed and folded his arms behind his back. “Lars, as much as I respect conspiracy theories, I tend to prefer those that have some merit. Just because my brother and I were born on the tenth of different months doesn’t mean there was a covert agenda.”

“’Covert agenda’ my ASS!” Lars burst out laughing, his arms wrapped around his waist, and he almost doubled over. His face was flushing from the strain of his hysterics, and just as Ronaldo was about to extend a hand and ask him if he was alright, Lars managed to choke the spit back down his throat and said “Dude. DUDE! Listen: your little brother was born EXACTLY nine months after your birthday. Do the math!”

Ronaldo blinked. His brain was lagging like a bad computer, but after a few clicks it caught up, and he was smacked with a memory…

He had just turned seven. His friends were playing in the bouncy castle outside, and he’d come back inside for another slice of cake. His parents looked startled when they noticed him, and his father had reached down to rustle his hair. “Hey there, birthday boy!” his daddy said, a clear strain on his face as he clutched at his wife. “We’re, uh, just going to close the curtains, play really loud music and, um, go do some grown-up things! Why don’t you go outside and play with your friends for… uh… fifteen minutes?”

“Make that twenty,” his mother giggled.

…and, just like that, he snapped back to the present. A cold, clammy sweat broke out when he realized the horrific ramifications of that exchange.

“No,” he whispered as the blood drained from his face. “Oh, God, no!”

Lars was still laughing, and now tears were streaming down his cheeks. “Maybe they fucked on the same table you ate your birthday cake off of!”

Ronaldo dropped to his knees and screamed. “NOOOOOOOO!”

**Author's Note:**

> This was, unfortunately, based on true events.
> 
> D:


End file.
